


mobius

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reverse Stockholm Syndrome, borderline psychosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2019-01-28 00:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: All day long, everyone relies on Koyama for everything. At night, he takes it out on Yamapi.





	mobius

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Yamapi’s skin is beautiful. Smooth, creamy texture, the perfect shade of golden brown, flawless from his head to his toes. As expected from an idol, although not as common due to miracle lotions and Photoshopping. Yamapi’s beauty, though, is natural.

It’s the purity that entices him, the innocence that calls him. But only on the surface; nothing about Yamapi is pure or innocent. He used to be, before Koyama snapped.

All day long, everyone relies on Koyama for everything. He’s expected to be nice and generous and patient, no matter what. His own feelings aren’t important. It doesn’t matter if he’s in a bad mood, or didn’t sleep well, or has a lot on his mind. Koyama is a giver; Koyama cares.

At night, he takes it out on Yamapi. The first time was the worst, years of pent-up rage and resentment breaking nearly everything in Yamapi’s apartment except his face, and Koyama hated himself for two weeks afterward. He didn’t leave a mark on Yamapi, except maybe the bruises on his hips from the firm grip as Koyama fucked him over the overturned table, but the nasty words and hurtful accusations haunted their speaker for a long time.

“They’re just words,” Yamapi said calmly, scooting a little closer to Koyama than he would have before. “I know you didn’t mean them.”

Koyama sniffed, feeling even guiltier when Yamapi laced their fingers together. “I don’t know what happened. I just… snapped.”

“I can think of worse ways you could have snapped,” Yamapi pointed out, and Koyama cringed as all of the possibilities flew through his mind. “If I can make it better, please let me.”

It was just like Yamapi to offer himself like that, and Koyama made it through two more episodes at home before his mother started to get worried and Nyanta hid from him. The next time he showed up at Yamapi’s door, he was shaking and seething, and Yamapi pulled him right through the threshold and into his mouth.

Koyama’s instinct took over then, shoving them down to the floor but cushioning the back of Yamapi’s head with his hand; he couldn’t bring himself to be abusive, even like this. He loved Yamapi. He respected him. Something about being with Yamapi was what calmed him down, not the physical act of taking him. His tension usually dissipated when Yamapi touched him, on the floor or against the wall or wherever Koyama attacked him, and suddenly Koyama was as docile as a cat. Just a cat in heat.

Yamapi’s so beautiful, so precious, and during these times, completely his. Most of Koyama’s misplaced energy is used on Yamapi’s body, touching and licking him everywhere that looks enticing. Yamapi likes it when Koyama sucks on the top of his spine during sex, just below his hairline where no one will see, covering him like a heavy blanket as he thrusts in and out of him with both arms wrapped around his torso.

He tries to ignore the rumors, but pictures don’t lie. They’re filming together, Yamapi’s introduced her to him as just a friend, but Koyama still dreams of removing her from the equation in quite graphic ways. He confesses this to Yamapi one night when they lay spent and sticky, because he tells Yamapi everything now, and Yamapi tells him he’s hot when he’s jealous. Then they go another round, and it’s so deep and intense that Koyama forgets all about that other bitch.

When Yamapi kisses her on TV, Koyama remembers Yamapi clutching to him and panting as Koyama teased him mercilessly without allowing him to come. He remembers pinning Yamapi’s hands to the wall with one hand so that he couldn’t touch himself, pounding him from behind and hissing dirty, arousing things in his ear as he ran his finger up and down Yamapi’s swollen cock just to hear him beg.

“I love you,” Yamapi moaned after Koyama finally got off, shuddering in the older man’s arms, and the remainder of Koyama’s anxiety fizzles in his head. That was nice to hear.

It’s like they’re dating, but they’re not. This is nothing like any relationship Koyama has ever had, nor what a proper relationship should be. Fucking exclusively, maybe, but it seems more than that, too. At least they better be exclusive. Koyama has a lot of tension to redirect toward anyone who dares touch his Yamapi.

After Tegoshi becomes the next victim of his subconscious homicidal urge, Koyama considers for the first time the possibly of seeing a doctor. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, even in his mind, and he’s starting to feel paranoid in the spotlight. Every time he looks at Yamapi, he thinks everyone in the audience and everyone watching on TV can see right into his head, everything he’s done and everything he thinks about doing. He imagines their disappointment, his poor mother’s ruined reputation, NEWS going on hiatus again and Yamapi being taken away from him all because he can’t control himself like an adult.

It’s Yamapi who nixes that idea, because they can’t trust anyone. Besides, as long as Yamapi’s around, Koyama will be okay. Yamapi balances out his irregularities. Yamapi is his drug.

“Maybe we should leave,” Yamapi suggests when the orgasm is no longer enough to stop Koyama from shaking. “Go somewhere else. _Be_ someone else.”

“What about NEWS?” Koyama asks.

“NEWS is the problem, isn’t it?” And nothing Yamapi has said before has made this much sense. “They will understand. They would want you to be healthy.”

“I’m not healthy,” Koyama sputters. “I should be locked up.”

“Then I wouldn’t have you anymore,” Yamapi says simply. “Let’s go.”

Five months later finds them on the beaches of Waikiki, with new names and a new life. The most recognizable of the pair, Yamapi spends all day in their little hotel room, which they get a discount on since Koyama works in the kitchen. They venture out at night when it’s safer, conveniently ignoring the reports that travel from Japan about the two idols who emptied their bank accounts and disappeared without a trace. Everyone seems to think it was Yamapi who snapped, fifteen years of fame finally catching up with him, and he took Koyama along against his will.

“Where do they come up with this stuff?” Koyama scoffs. “If anything, _I_ kidnapped _you_.”

Yamapi snuggles closer and smiles.

None of the hotel staff spare a second thought to the good-looking gay couple who don’t speak a lot of English, because Koyama works hard and just nods his head and apologizes whenever he get scolded. But it doesn’t take long for it to catch up with him, and he misreads Yamapi’s sigh of relief when Koyama comes home and throws him face-down on the bed after a particularly degrading shift.

Each thrust is equivalent to a calming drag of a cigarette, and Koyama’s eternally grateful that it was Yamapi who set him off in the first place.


End file.
